Inspired by the multi-sensory creations of Zoe Burgess and Professor Charles Spence’s research, we began to wonder – is blind tasting over-rated? There was only one way to find out: by conducting our own experiment. We gathered three Hot Rum Cow readers and asked them to taste four beers, four wines, four vodkas and four sherries. Beyond those descriptions, we didn’t reveal any more information about the drinks. We asked our panel to concentrate on describing the aroma and the flavour of the drink and to give each one a score out of five (five being fantastic, one being vile).

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Meet our panel

Doug Bond is a wine educator and writer who regularly runs WSET wine courses in Edinburgh. He has been in the drinks trade for over 10 years, working firstly with Majestic Wine and latterly for some of Scotland’s leading independent wine merchants. Neil Ballantyne worked for more than 30 years in the brewing industry and has a keen interest in beers (particularly from small Scottish breweries) and wines. Fiona Leith spent four years running the magazines department of The Scotsman and Scotland on Sunday. In that time she championed the rise of Scotland’s microbrewers, independent spirit makers, bars and merchants.

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Beer

First up was beer. After apologising for a lack of decent glassware (our first trick of the day), we served our panel a plastic cup of Deuchar’s IPA. It received a lukewarm reception and a total score of  7 out of 15.

Next up, we served two further beers (Ossian and ASDA Golden Ale) in plain glasses. But these were just decoys – what we were really interested in was the panel’s view of our fourth beer. Unbeknown to them, we served the Deuchars IPA again at exactly the same temperature – the difference this time is that it was served in a stylish glass schooner.

The score shot up to 10 out of 15, making it their favourite beer of the round, and the nose and the flavour made a much more vivid impact with all three panellists. Neil talked of “midget gems” and “heather ale”, Doug of “toast” and “toffee”, while Fiona found it “full-bodied” and commented on its “sweetness” (compared with the “bitterness” that marked her plastic cup experience).

The conclusion? Drinking from a sensibly shaped, nicely designed glass does make stuff taste and smell better.

Wine

Next up was wine. We began with a Pinot Grigio from Romania, which went down reasonably well, but that was just a decoy. We were more interested in the reaction to an Italian Pinot Grigio called Lucotto (£7 from ASDA). This bombed – they all disliked it intensely and gave it just one point each. Next came another decoy – a Pinot Noir, which scored well. The last drink of the round was the Lucotto yet again – with the careful addition of flavourless red food colouring. This time, they thought they were drinking a red wine – how would that affect their judgement?

The Lucotto people may want to shield their eyes at this point because, yet again, the wine was comprehensively slated. But what was fascinating was how the panellists’ descriptors changed. The “peachy” and “citrus” notes of the ‘white’ Lucotto were now replaced by mentions of “sour cherry”, “Asian spice” and even “soy sauce” – and these comments came from all three of our panel.

The conclusion this time? If white wine is coloured red, people’s brains tell them it tastes of red wine.

Vodka

Our third test took us into uncharted territory – we’re not aware of anyone trying this before. First up, the panel received a shot glass of Smirnoff vodka. The shot glass had a paper sticker on it with a number. We explained that we’d numbered all the vodka glasses to avoid confusion. The drink went down very well, but who cares – it was a decoy.

Next up was ASDA triple distilled vodka, which scored badly but was, once again, a decoy. The third drink was Russian Standard vodka. However, this time the paper sticker on the shot glass was impregnated with female pheromone spray. Seemingly odourless, the spray triggers reactions in our brains.

The fourth drink was the same Russian Standard vodka, but this time the paper was impregnated with male pheromone spray. Watching the panel describe these drinks was fascinating. All three looked confused. Interestingly they also, unprompted, got into a discussion directly comparing the two pheromone-treated vodkas and found them difficult to separate score-wise, but also found them very different.

Fiona found the female version “sweet and fruity … had to check it wasn’t perfume on my wrist”. When it came to the male version, she said: “It’s fiery. I’d score it the same as the last one but it’s very different.” Neil said: “The fourth one is like the third one but stronger. It feels more intense and more alcoholic. I scored it the same as the last one but it is very different.”

Doug also responded differently to the two vodkas, finding the second one to be more “aromatic” with greater impact. The pheromone sprays had a big influence on people’s experience. Might the same be true if you had a drink in a room full of women compared with a room full of men?

Sherry

And so to sherry. Throughout the trial, we had been playing Kind of Blue by Miles Davis in the background, the mellow jazz helping to create a relaxed atmosphere. But there was another reason for music from the start – we didn’t want our panel to wonder why we’d started playing music for this last round of drinks.

And so, as garish little plastic shot glasses of Barbiana Manzanilla (15%) were served up, we changed the mood and started playing some deep bass loops incorporating feral animal noises. As our creative director cranked up the volume, it was striking that none of the panellists consciously noticed this strange and obtrusive rumbling – they were so focused on their task. Doug liked the sherry; Neil and Fiona were not so keen.

The panel was then served with a La Goya Manzanilla (also 15%) as our DJ slipped on Youme & Meyou by Einstürzende Neubauten, a downbeat track with morose German-inflected vocals. The reason for these high jinks will soon become clear.

The panel, assuming it was getting something different, then unwittingly tasted a second glass of La Goya. This time, we played them You Could Feel The Sky by Boards of Canada – a really disconcerting, uneasy listen.

Finally, we served up sherry number four, which was the Barbiana Manzanilla for a second time. But this time we played, O This Is No My Ain Lassie by Jean Redpath. In sharp contrast to the previous tracks, this is a light and airy interpretation of a Robert Burns song, Redpath’s high-pitched voice weaving prettily with flute, strings and piano.

It was refreshing to listen to after all that heavy stuff but quite intrusive, and it was odd that none of the panellists seemed to even notice it – although at a subconscious level they almost certainly did.

Why? Well, the academic theory is that the pitch of music affects our taste – the higher the pitch, the sweeter the taste. This time, the La Goya was our decoy – we wanted to see how different Barbiana tasted when played against a backdrop of rumbling bass and drums compared with something much higher-pitched.

Yet again, the theory seemed to stack up. Fiona wasn’t keen on the first Barbiana, scoring it as a two, but she gave the second one four points out of five, referencing “sultana and deep fruit” flavours. Neil wasn’t keen on either but, while he found the first “grapey and thin”, he found the second sherry more scented, with a hint of liquorice.

Doug meanwhile much preferred the first Barbiana, noting “ripe pear, salt and nuttiness on palate”. The second time round, he picked up on a “taste of fruit”, but wasn’t keen – clearly more of a dry sherry fan.

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Warm glass of Smirnoff

• Our experiment was conducted in the spirit of enthusiastic amateurism rather than rigorous scientific lab conditions, and you could argue some of our results either way, but the over-riding conclusion has to be that our perception of quality and enjoyment in a drink is about so much more than just taste. And one last thought. Of the many drinks served to our panel that afternoon, what was the top scorer overall? The answer – a cheap Ikea glass of lukewarm Smirnoff. It must have been the Miles Davis.

 

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